


Taking Care of You

by laughter_now



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughter_now/pseuds/laughter_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even someone as strong as Jim Kirk needs to let someone else take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care of You

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything associated with the Star Trek franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> First posted to my lj-journal on May 10th, 2010.

**Taking Care of You**  
It could have been worse. In fact, Leonard didn't even want to think about how much worse it could have been.  
  
Losing contact to an away team while on a mission was always bad, always something that immediately put the entire crew on alert. Nine out of ten times it turned out to be nothing but a technical failure, or yet another thing to put on Scotty's ever-growing list of _things we'd better stay away from because they block the transporter and communications array_. But one time out of those ten, the reason why contact to an away team broke off was actually reason for real worry, or – as in this case – reason to get them beamed back aboard right the _fuck_ now.  
  
It had been close, but they had beamed Chekov and Jim back aboard just in time. So much for this being a peaceful meet and greet. In Leonard's book, _peaceful_ didn't imply tying Chekov up and throwing him into the local swamp as a peace offering for the highest local god. And of course Jim, bless his heroic heart, had jumped in right after the young navigator. To say that the locals hadn't been amused by their interrupted ritual was an understatement, but Leonard couldn't care less. Enterprise was hauling ass out of there, and this particular planet was going to receive a big fat red warning sign in the database. Leonard wasn't going to shed a tear if they never came back here ever again.  
  
Virgin sacrifices. Really. And that was most certainly something Chekov hadn't wanted the entire crew to know. Poor kid. Of course it was nothing to be ashamed of, especially for a wunderkind whose teenage years had been spent pretending to be an adult instead of being a teenager. He might be twenty years old now, but in many aspects the kid was still…well, a kid. No shame in not having gotten laid yet. Though if Leonard was to judge from the way Sulu had been hovering outside of Medical when Chekov had been released, maybe the kid just needed to look a little more closely at what was directly in front of him to redeem the source of his embarrassment.  
  
And even if Leonard misread the signs, at least Chekov had someone to look after him for tonight. Leonard had his own hands full with the completely exhausted Captain leaning heavily onto him for support right now.  
  
Physically, Jim was fine, just like Chekov was going to be fine. But he was exhausted, and it was no small wonder. It must have been fifteen, maybe twenty minutes that Jim had held the tied up Chekov afloat in the swamp, unable to undo the young ensign's restraints and stubbornly unwilling to let go of him, even though the swamp water had been viscous and it had taken every last ounce of his strength to keep both their heads above the water. Actually, Leonard was surprised that Jim had managed to keep them both afloat until the emergency beam-out at all, but then again he knew his lover. It was going to take more than some misguided aliens and their holy swamp to make Jim give up on one of his men.  
  
But he was at the end of his rope, physically speaking, otherwise he wouldn't be this compliant as Leonard led him through the corridors back towards their quarters. Normally, Leonard knew Jim would never let his crew see him like that, exhausted and barefoot, covered in dirt, wearing a pair of blue surgery scrubs to replace his completely ruined uniform, leaning on Leonard for guidance and support because he was barely able to keep his eyes open.  
  
Luckily, they didn't encounter many crewmembers on their way, and finally they reached the doors to their quarters. Leonard punched in the access code, and as they stepped into the room and the door closed behind them, Jim sagged more heavily against him with a weary sigh.  
  
"Bed," he murmured tiredly. Leonard wanted nothing more than to grant him that particular wish, but not in the state Jim was in right now.  
  
"You need a shower first."  
  
Jim wearily shook his head. "Too tired, Bones. Need to sleep."  
  
Leonard pulled Jim a little more tightly against himself, but unrelentingly led him over towards the bathroom.  
  
"Sorry, Jim. I hate to say it, but you're still wearing half that swamp, and you smell like it, too. Besides, your body temperature was a little too low when we beamed you back aboard, so you're going to take a hot shower and I don't want to hear another word about it. Doctor's orders."  
  
Jim's face pulled into a frown, but he seemed too tired to even protest as Leonard led him into the bathroom. Once there, he simply stopped, blinking tiredly at his lover. Leonard smiled and gently ran his hand along Jim's dirty cheek.  
  
"Come on, I've got you Jim. Let me take care of you, then you'll be in bed in no time."  
  
Jim nodded and stood still as Leonard pulled the blue scrubs shirt over his head. He tried to lift his arms, but stopped halfway through the movement, leaving Leonard to peel the shirt off the rest of the way. The pants were easier to remove since they had been riding low on Jim's slim hips anyway, and after he had made sure that Jim wasn't going to topple over if he was left to stand on his own for a few moments, he turned on the water in the shower and quickly shrugged out of his own clothes.  
  
Seeing Jim like this tore at something inside of Leonard. Jim looked so incredibly young like that, blinking owlishly at Leonard from tired eyes. He was covered from head to toe in the remains of greenish-brown swamp mud, and the only places where his pale skin shone through were the round splotches around the bite-marks which Leonard had cleaned and disinfected earlier in Medical.  
  
Because of course there had been leeches.  
  
Big, slimy leeches which Leonard had plucked from Jim's skin one by one. Twenty-nine all in all, and according to M'Benga Chekov had even managed to attract thirty-three of the little bastards. But twenty-nine was more than enough. Most of them had been on Jim's bare arms and his legs, access made easier by the fact that Jim had kicked off his boots in a desperate attempt to reduce the weight that was pulling him down. But there had been one leech on his neck, a little too close to Jim's jugular for Leonard's comfort, and one of the little buggers had somehow managed to get up Jim's pants and attach itself to his perineum.  
  
Removing _that_ one had been painful, and Leonard freely admitted that he had winced in sympathy as he had pulled the leech off.  
  
If the exhaustion hadn't been complete by the time Jim had been beamed back aboard, the pain from the leech removal sure had done its job. He was unusually pliant as Leonard grabbed a clean washcloth and then led him around the partition and under the spray of warm water. Jim's shoulders sagged a little, and as Leonard stepped up behind him so that his chest was pressed against Jim's back, a small sigh escaped his lips and he leaned back against the other man.  
  
"Bones…"  
  
"Just relax, darlin'. Just let me take care of you."  
  
Jim nodded tiredly, and Leonard put the washcloth away and reached for the bottle of shampoo. Directing Jim so that he moved his head out of the spray of water, Leonard poured some shampoo into his palm and started to spread it through Jim's hair.  
  
The short strands were hard and caked with mud, but as Leonard started working in the shampoo the dirt began to soften and dissolve. The water in the drain had turned brown the moment Jim had stepped under the spray, and now it started mingling with the remains of dirty soap as Leonard rinsed out the first lather of shampoo and applied a second.  
  
As Jim's hair started to return to its normal soft texture, Leonard's fingers began to gently massage Jim's scalp, from his forehead over his temples to the back of his head. Jim uttered an incoherent appreciative moan and leaned into the contact as Leonard's fingers applied a gentle pressure all over his head.  
  
"Close your eyes," Leonard whispered, and as Jim followed that request he directed him under the spray of water again to rinse out the shampoo. Picking up the washcloth, he worked up a lather and turned towards Jim again.  
  
"Keep them closed for a second."  
  
Jim did, and Leonard started to gently run the washcloth over his face, rubbing small circles over his forehead and cheeks, and – tenderly, carefully – over his closed eyelids to remove the dirt that was caked to Jim's skin, and to the stubble on his cheeks and jaw. The skin that emerged was clean and tinged slightly pink from the rubbing washcloth, and Leonard kept up a constant rhythm of lathering, cleaning and rinsing to reveal more and more of Jim's skin underneath all the dirt and mud.  
  
He spent a few long moments tenderly cleaning out the shells of Jim's ears and that small strip of skin behind his ears before he moved on to Jim's neck and throat. With Jim's back turned towards him again, Leonard made sure that his lover never left the warm spray of water as he started to lather up Jim's shoulders and arms. The strokes of the washcloth were getting broader, more rhythmic and soothing as Leonard washed Jim's left arm first, running the washcloth over the top in long strokes before he cleaned the hand and fingers with smaller, more gentle movements, before he took the washcloth up the underside of Jim's arm in long, soothing strokes again. Once he finished with Jim's armpit, he repeated the same movements with his right arm.  
  
All the while, Jim was standing under the spray, unmoving and pliant under Leonard's ministrations. His breathing was deep and even, and if it weren't for the fact that he was standing up Leonard would have guessed he was asleep. Brown water sloshed down Jim's butt and the back of his legs as Leonard proceeded to clean Jim's shoulders and his back, but he stopped as he reached the small of his back and gently reached for Jim's shoulders.  
  
"Turn around, darlin'."  
  
Jim did, and the expression in his half-lidded eyes spoke volumes about his exhaustion. With a low moan, Jim let his forehead drop against Leonard's shoulder.  
  
"'m so tired, Bones."  
  
"I know, Jim. Just a little longer, okay?"  
  
Wringing the excess water out of the washcloth, Leonard once more lathered up shower gel and started washing Jim's chest. The mud was caking Jim's sparse chest hair together, and more than once the younger man flinched a little as Leonard's movement pulled at the short hairs.  
  
"Sorry," Leonard whispered every time Jim jerked under his touch, and he pressed gentle kisses against Jim's soft, freshly washed hair once he was done washing Jim's chest and belly.  
  
He skipped Jim's groin for now and moved on to his legs. Kneeling down in front of Jim despite the protest his knees screamed at him at the pressure of the hard tiles. Jim swayed slightly, and with a shuddering breath put his hands on Leonard's shoulders in an attempt to steady himself.  
  
"I'll go as fast as I can, darlin'."  
  
Jim just nodded wordlessly, and Leonard began wiping the washcloth down Jim's strong thighs and muscular calves. Normally, he could spend hours caressing Jim's body if only he had the time, but right now he was struggling to be as quick and efficient as possible so that Jim could get some well-earned rest. And while there was nothing sexual about the situation, it was still something very sensual, to be doing this for Jim, and to feel how Jim put himself into his hands, allowing the ministrations despite the fact that he was nearly too exhausted to stand upright. It was a display of trust, and though Jim's trust in him was something he hadn't ever doubted, Leonard couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest that was rising up at that thought. Jim was surrendering himself to his ministrations, allowed himself to be completely vulnerable with all his defenses lowered, and Leonard cherished the knowledge that he was the one Jim was trusting enough to do so.  
  
Jim's feet were nearly clean from all the water that had been running down his body for the past minutes, but still Leonard meticulously ran the washcloth over the high arches and in between his toes. Jim jerked away a little as Leonard moved the cloth over a ticklish spot, and Leonard quickly pressed an apologetic kiss against Jim's thigh.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
He got to his feet again, ignoring the slight sting in his knees, and almost immediately Jim leaned closer towards him, his body warm and wet against Leonard's skin. Curling one hand in the short hair at the back of Jim's neck, he pressed a kiss on top of his head.  
  
"Nearly done, darlin'."  
  
As reluctant as he was to withdraw from the warmth of Jim's body, Leonard moved back a little and spread some more shower gel onto the washcloth. Despite his ministrations and the prolonged close contact, Jim's cock was hanging limply between his legs as Leonard brought the washcloth to Jim's groin and started to wipe away the remaining mud and dirt. He was especially careful as he moved the washcloth across Jim's balls and his perineum, where the most painful leech bite was located.  
  
And despite his fatigue and exhaustion, Leonard could feel Jim's cock starting to fill under his ministrations. It was a perfectly natural reaction, one that didn't require any kind of higher brain function, or – considering Jim's current state – even consciousness, so Leonard didn't read too much into it.  
  
He kept his ministrations quick and efficient, even if this was a long cry from the matter-of-fact way he would go about all this if Jim was just a patient, and not the man he loved. Still, normally it ended vastly different if he and Jim were in the shower together.  
  
Leonard ran the washcloth over the insides of Jim's thighs, then brought it around to clean away the last remnants of mud from Jim's butt cheeks. Running the cloth in the cleft between them was the final act of cleaning, then Leonard put his hands on Jim's shoulders and took a step back to see if he had missed any obvious spots of mud on his lover's body.  
  
There was a small speck next to his left eyebrow, and Leonard gently wiped it away with his thumb before he turned off the water.  
  
"I'll be right back, I'll just get you a towel."  
  
He quickly went behind the partition and ran a towel over his own hair, shoulders and chest before he wrapped it around his waist and picked up another towel for Jim. The younger man was still standing right under the shower head where Leonard had left him, looking far too much like a lost little boy who was waiting for someone to pick him up. He obediently ducked his head as Leonard toweled off his short hair. It was still damp when Leonard wrapped the towel around Jim's shoulders, and sticking up in odd angles, and he couldn't resist running his hands through the short strands and smoothing them down.  
  
Jim was still far too compliant for his usually exuberant self. Normally, he was constantly thrumming with a restless energy and unable to stand still, so a quiet, unmoving Jim who allowed Leonard to shift and move him around was cause for worry. Leonard quickly moved Jim out of the shower stall and in front of the mirror where he toweled him off. For once, he just dropped the wet towel to the floor without a second thought and led Jim out of the bathroom towards their bed. He could always clean up later. Or tomorrow.  
  
"Come on, lets get you into some clothes, then you can go and get some rest."  
  
"'kay."  
  
Leonard grabbed the first clean clothes he could find – a pair of his own sweatpants – and held them as Jim climbed into the pant legs, one hand grasping Leonard's shoulder for balance. Considering that Jim had been exposed to cold water earlier, Leonard would prefer it if Jim also wore a shirt, but it was obvious that he needed sleep, right now, and was keeping himself upright by sheer force of will alone. First and foremost, he needed to get Jim into bed.  
  
Putting his hand on Jim's arm, he exerted a gentle pressure towards the bed.  
  
"We're all done. Come on, now you can get some sleep."  
  
With a relieved sigh, Jim sank down onto the mattress, nuzzling his face into the pillow as Leonard lifted his legs up on the bed and pulled the comforter up to cover him. He bent down and pressed a kiss against Jim's forehead.  
  
"Get some rest, darlin'."  
  
Jim mumbled something unintelligible, but his hand was reaching out blindly towards the right side of the bed.  
  
"'ones?"  
  
"I'll be right there."  
  
With a smile, he walked over towards the other side of the bed, undoing the towel as he went. He slid under the blankets, and immediately found himself with an armful of Jim who tiredly clung to him like one of the leeches Leonard had pulled off him earlier. But he was relieved to notice that Jim's skin was warm and that he showed no traces of being hypothermic. Leonard pulled him even closer and let Jim nuzzle his face into the hollow of his neck, breaths puffing warmly over Leonard's skin.  
  
"Thanks Bones."  
  
It was just a whisper, but Leonard heard it clearly.  
  
"Anytime, Jim. You did good today. And now sleep."  
  
He didn't tell Jim that if push came to shove, he'd also take him covered in swamp mud and stinking to high heavens. Jim was already fast asleep, anyway, his breathing deep and even against Leonard's neck. So Leonard could just as well close his eyes and get some rest himself.  
  
  
 _ **The End**  
_


End file.
